


Now It Feels Like Yesterday I Went Away

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 15:09:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Harry and louis are madly in love but louis needs to marry Eleanor for a reason (pregnancy?) Harry is so devastated he leaves the band and disappears. Years later louis and him meet and this time louis won’t let him go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now It Feels Like Yesterday I Went Away

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So I'm posting this on here for my lovely amazing friends; Siphrodite. They wrote this and it is a 100% original piece by them. You can find them on their Tumblr (Zaydark.tumblr.com) and Wattpad http://www.wattpad.com/user/Siphrodite) page.

  One Direction. Even the name sounds appealing. It makes you realize how much of a rash decision it really was. A couple of blokes thrown together in hopes of becoming big, and they did. Bigger then they were ever supposed to. At first the boys drew in as much of the success as they could. They tried _so hard_ to be what they wanted to be, to be someone they would've looked upto if they were still kids. And it was amazing. The first year was nothing but smell of success, money, friendship and love. It was so perfect. Everybody was friends with everyone, they could be a bit gay and blame it on 'being with each other for too long'. And everything was okay. Much better than okay. They were a couple of teenage boys living _the_ dream, girls falling at their feet, people paying an endless amount of money for only one show, and it was all just to see those five boys. It was so far from being just okay that it was hitting Pluto. But not anymore.

  
   It wasn't. _Nothing_ was okay. He had always known that the band had been kind of edging away from each other, all the rumors and the incidents, they just couldn't afford it. They couldn't afford losing everyone they loved just because of a stupid band. A stupid band that got too popular too quick. He couldn't have a quick snog with people without everything going absolutely crazy. Hell, he couldn't even step out of the room without having to look left, right, out the window, behind the sofa, in the closet. It was that intense. You never know what was going to happen next, and it was all a deep and dark hole of  'will it or will it not?'.  
  
  There were days like these when Harry really wished that One Direction had never gotten to the point they were at. Where he wished they were one of those UK bands that people think can't do anything wrong. Like McFly. God knows how long they had been at it, and yet they manage to make music and enjoy it with thousands upon thousands of fans, and that was all. They were one of those bands where no one had anything to hide. A happy family. The opposite of One Direction. And then Harry isn't only talking about himself. Poor Liam, can't get a girlfriend without the whole fandom criticizing it – even thought it was none of their business. And Zayn who could barely smile at a female without being accused of cheating. Then there is Niall who is always so lost in the middle of it. Some days he just woke up and had a girlfriends and the next he found out that they had broke up.  
  
  When Harry woke up that Monday he thought it was one of those days when the rumors were really going. He thought; poor Louis, having to come home to all that. He was somewhere off with Liam, surfing in the spooky Australian sea and he definitely wouldn't like what Harry was reading. 'Louis Tomlinson finally put a ring on it.'. From a scale from one to aliens, how much bullshit was that? And despite his anger he managed to laugh. He had seen the inside chemistry between the couple, and there was no way they were going to work. Besides, all Harry had to do was take a look at that picture in the paper, and he knew that there was no chance that it would ever happen. They just looked so _miserable_. Eleanor, standing on the right had this extremely worn out expression on her face, looking like she was just on the verge of giving up. And Harry actually felt bad for her. Even thought Louis and her hadn't been too close for the past few months she had managed befriend about every single member of the Tomlinson family, and many late nights were spent reading over tweets and replying in a harsh manner because she absolutely hated it when people talked badly about people she loved. And that was really the only thing Harry felt bad for when it came to Eleanor. Because really, she couldn't complain. With a man like Louis by your side there was no way you could ever be ungrateful.   
  
  Louis. Just the thought of him made a blush roll over to Harry's face. _That_ boy. He has changed so much since the moment they met, and yet Harry can't help but love him even more each and every passing day. He loved everything about him. At first it was his charming humor that really caught his attention. Almost every single word that left the boy's mouth was something that belonged in a stand up show. And Harry loved it. He loved it all. The red pants and striped shirts, the new look of ripped ankle-folded jeans, messy hair and tank tops. Nothing Louis ever did was wrong. And even as Harry looked down and took in the miserable picture of the two who claimed to be a couple he still couldn't find a flaw on Louis' face. It was actually kind of fascinating.   
  
  Only if the two of them had admitted their fascination with each other earlier. Harry would've been able to send out a big fuck you to the world as he walked down the streets with a fuzzy haired boyfriend and a big smile. But they both forgot to do it in time, unaware of the time limit that had been set, and it was too late. Too late.  
  


 

  
  
  “Wait, what?”  
  
  Those two words were the only ones able to squeeze out of his mouth, as his neck felt too tight, his tongue felt too dry, and his eyes were stinging quite badly.  
  
  “Look. Harry. It's more complicated then you think...” Louis stated nervously, reaching up his hand to scratch the back of his head while making sure that whatever he did, he would 'not' look at Harry. He only just realized that Harry was still just a kid. Coming out of the shower with his hair flopping down in a fringe like it used to, his green eyes looking so wide and innocent, and his lips parted in confusion. Louis wanted to hit himself. There was still a little boy inside and he was breaking it. There was no way Harry, nor the little curly haired boy, would ever forgive him.  
  
  “Complicated?” Harry repeated, his deep voice seeming to have changed back to pre-puperty as it broke in mid word, and the boy hadn't even attempted to steady it from trembling.  
  
  “Yes. Complicated.” Louis said once again, and he fought with all his power to keep himself from grabbing the brown hair on his own head, tugging until the pain was satisfying. Because he really couldn't do that. Harry would see how weak he was at that moment, and that was exactly what the older boy did not need. “Eleanor she just – shit, it wasn't supposed to happen. You know we like to fool around from time to time, when you're out with the boys, and it was just a one time thing. A one time thing that turned into this. And shit, there's nothing I can do about it. And I care about you, but I care about Eleanor too. And in this case she is the one who is worse put, and I have to chose Harry. I _have_ to.” he paused talking then, looking over at Harry who's expression was almost unreadable under that young face. “Harry, say something.”  
  
  The younger one thought. He thought properly. And the lump in his throat just didn't seem to want to stop growing, which was exactly the opposite of what Harry had been trying to do. And at that moment there was nothing for him to lose, really. “I thought you loved me.” his voice came out small and soft and broken. Too broken. Harry heard it, Louis heard it. They both heard it. But neither of them could let themselves be bothered by it.  
  
  “I do love you, Harry. I love you so fucking much that it hurts. You know I do. The boys know I do. _Everyone_ knows I do. But I have to do this. Eleanor is pregnant, Harry. And I don't want her to raise up a kid on her own in a broke down apartment and turn on the television when re-runs of the Brits, the X factor, even the Olympic ceremony, are going on and point at the screen, telling the child 'look, that's your father'. No kid deserves that.” the feathery haired boy stepped closer, bringing a hand up to Harry's porcelain-like face and he ran delicate fingers down the soft skin, closing his eyes along the with younger. “If there was another choice I would've picked that one without doubt, but there isn't. I have to do this. I have to marry Eleanor. It's not only what's best for her and the child growing in her stomach, but it's also best for you and me. This wasn't bound to end well and you know it. People would've never accepted it. But now we don't have to worry about that anymore. You won't have to deal with the rumors, the harsh words and the judging stares. Because they'll think nothing of it. Just two friends having fun. There's nothing suspicious about that.”  
  
  Those were the most hard-hitting words Harry had ever been told. Up until then he thought he would be able to hold it in, but not anymore. He knew it. He wasn't sure which of the three things was worse. Pregnancy, marriage or that damn confrontation. The way he put it out so casually, like it was okay. The fact that they were 'just two friends having fun'. It made Harry think back. How could he be so stupid, thinking Louis would eventually leave his girlfriend and it would all end happily ever after? Of course he wouldn't. Not after all the convincing he had to do and all the shit he had to say. It was Eleanor then, it is Eleanor now, and it would be Eleanor for as long as she lived.  
  
  “Harry.” the same _beautiful_ voice sounded again, worry lying on the tip of the boy's tongue. “Please. Say something, babe.”  
  
  The boy's attention snapped back after hearing the nickname, and he slightly stumbled back, grabbing onto the kitchen counter to keep himself steadied, but he could feel the paper under his fingers and he looked down, immediately regretting his decision. 'Louis Tomlinson finally put a ring on it'.  
  
  “Can we talk about this tomorrow?” Harry asked and it took Louis by surprise. Immediately the older boy walked closer to the other, but he stopped when he took a proper look at Harry's face. It was begging him, _begging him_ , to let him go. And if there was something that Louis was exceptionally weak for it was Harry's look of innocence.  
  
  “Yeah, of course.” he really should've said no.  
  
  As soon as Harry was dismissed he jogged out of the hotel room and into his own. He immediately closed the door as soon as he stepped foot inside, and before he knew it his body was sliding down the door, and everything seemed like it was slow motion. The moment he started sobbing was the moment he realized that there was no way he was going out there, being greeted by smiling fans and posters of Louis. He wouldn't be able to handle the chants of _OneDirectionOneDirectionOneDirection_. He wouldn't be able to appreciate it. He knew that it was completely unfair. He knew that he shouldn't. But somewhere deep down he blamed the fans, in a certain way. He blamed them for making him too happy. For making him get the chance to meet someone as amazing as Louis. For making all these stupid and cute signs that made Harry and Louis look at each other with a small shy grin and a blush. For trying to prove to everyone that they weren't just friends. For supporting Louis and Harry while keeping protesting Louis and Eleanor. For driving Louis to the point where he got overwhelmed and self-defensive. For helping him see the love in Louis but forgetting to show him the way out.  
  
  Harry couldn't handle it. None of it. Not the fans, not the rest of the band, not his own family, not the paparazzi, not the media, not the press, not their management. Not Louis. Nothing.

 

  
  
  
  Five years had passed. Five whole years had passed since Harry sent a simple and straight out message to his management before smashing his phone against a hotel room wall. And Harry still thought about it every day as he went to sleep. He thought about his friends, he thought about his family, he thought about his fans, he thought about the band, he thought about Louis. But most important of all, he thought about that little Tomlinson. The one who was four years old by now, probably running around and throwing stuff into walls – if it were as stubborn as it's father.

  
  Harry doesn't even know which sex the child is, but it's one of the things he doesn't want to know. Because if it's a girl then Louis and Eleanor have probably made her try on a thousand dresses, they'll have seen her big smiley eyes, they'll have sung a lullaby to her so many times, they'll have watched cute Disney movies with her. But if it's a boy that would be no better nor worse. The boy probably has cute fluffy brown hear sweeping across it's head as it ran along in tiny adorable Vans shoes – because Harry _knew_ Louis that well – and probably kicking a small ball, his parents already planning his career in soccer. It was all just too much. And Harry bets the baby is absolutely gorgeous, after all it's a very good mix of parents, but Harry knows he'd never be able to look at it without remembering what Louis and he once had. And the fact that a small, innocent, baby was the cause.  
  
  He straightened out his shirt, sighing. That was the moment. This was the first time in those five years that he stepped on land. He and an old friend of his father's had spend all these years together on a small fishing boat, keeping it a secret from the world. Harry knew that the first few weeks of his disappearance had probably been a chaos. All over the papers and the news. Maybe some would think he was dead. But he wasn't. Far from it. His imagination had grown those years he was on sea. And he used it to his advantage. He would spend hours upon hours upon hours sitting on that boat, writing stories, writing in his good old leather journal (which caused him endless pain because sometimes he would go back a hundred pages and read and _remember_ how it used to be, when he was a young clueless boy with dreams that came true and fans and friends and family) and the only time he really came out was when good ol' Tim called him out to come eat.  
  
  So being there, in the middle of a London hotel room, was nerve-wrecking for him. He had almost forgotten how it was to sleep beneath a thick duvet, on a huge but _so soft_ bed, having enough clothes to change. And he felt like he had never been as clean in his life as he was at that moment.  
  
  No one had spotted him yet. He was thankful for that. Maybe that's because his hair had _grown_. It was kind of embarrassing actually. It wasn't curly and floppy and cute anymore. It was way too long, way too manly, and way too not-Harry like. And he noticed that immediately. So the first thing he did when he arrived at the hotel was to call up an old friend of his. There was a lot of 'Lou, sweetheart, I'm okay' and 'I hate you, Harry Styles' and 'God bless you child, I miss you' and then there was this other voice in the phone and Harry thought he would faint because, wow, Lux was seven years old and mature and _talking_. By the end of the call he was a sobbing mess, and waiting for Lou to come over. In the start he wanted to contact her about his hair, but he forgot all about that as soon as he heard her voice.  
  
  In less than twenty minutes a small blonde was standing in front of him, arms clutching so tight around him that he thought that this was the end. But he couldn't blame her. The poor woman had been one of his best friends, and if he wasn't afraid of actually squeezing all the life out of her tiny frame, he would've done the same thing.  
  
  “Harry Styles. Oh my, my. Harry Styles.” she muttered, and the boy's eyes were already soaked in tears, although he wasn't going to admit that to the woman. “I can't believe. After all these years. _Five_ whole years you're back. Do you know how scared we were? Everyone panicked. The boys cried for days, they thought you were gone – probably still do. And Niall, poor child, was absolutely devastated. He thought it was his fault at first. He thought that it was because he didn't pay enough attention to how you were feeling and he thought that it was all on him. Then there was Liam. He was so sad, he fell into some sort of depression because he believed you were dead, and it took him about a year to get his old self back. And Zayn. It was unbelievable. He didn't look sad. He looked so angry all the time. He was knocking things over, he was cursing at everything and everyone, and I'm pretty sure that at one point he scared us all. But Louis was the worst. Louis. I know you might not want to know this, but he cried so much. Especially when Zayn kept telling him that it was his fault. Poor boy. Poor boy. Louis knew that it was his fault and he felt so bad. You have no idea. He barely spoke to anyone those first months, we had to remove the mirrors from his room because he couldn't stand looking at himself after. It was all so fucked up and nobody knew what happened. Even the rest of the world was at chaos. Girls breaking down the gates to the house where we were staying, crying their eyes out and bawling your name. At one point it got so intense that it was world news for a whole month, nearly all people talked about anymore, there was even a tribute to you at the Grammy's, where Bob Marley, Whitney Huston, Michael Jackson had gotten their tributes too. The world was at chaos and nobody seemed to realize that you might be lurking out there. But – Harry. It's really you! You're back and you're different and you're grown up and you've got a smile on your face. I can't believe that it's actually happening.”  
  
  Harry's sobs echoed around the room as he listened to Lou. It was the first time in five years that he had cried. And even though he was a grown 24 year old man he couldn't help but sob into the woman's shoulder like a small child. He had missed her, missed them all, so much and he felt so bad. But it had to be done.  
  
  When he pulled back, letting her rub away his wet tears, he couldn't help but smile. He was back. He hadn't realized how amazing life could be. He didn't realize how amazing it was to wake up and see the same people every day because he hadn't experienced such a loss before. But it was amazing. And he sure as hell wasn't running away anytime soon.  
  
  “Babe.” she whispered after moments of silence, palms still cupping her cheeks and generating some kind of warmth. Harry looked back into her eyes with a questioning gaze, his own still wet and twinkling. “You really do need a haircut.”  
  
  And despite it all Harry couldn't help but laugh.  
 

 

  
  
  
  An hour later Lou was on her way out. She was still sobbing like a proud mother, but yet she was 'so' angry. After half an hour she actually slapped him hard and properly across the face, but all he did was hold in a laugh because he knew it wasn't funny and he knew he did deserve it, and laughing was just so good. But all slapping aside, she did also cut his hair. And she actually kept the leftovers, telling him that she was going to braid it and put it in a book as an example of a 'lost on an island for five years' look. Lovely.   
  
  Just as she was leaving another knock was on the door, and Harry looked over at Lou with wide alarmed eyes. She just smiled and shook her head. He took a deep breath. It wasn't Louis.  
  
  Ever so cautiously he crept towards the door, opening it slowly to be sure that Lou hadn't been lying, but the door was flung open before he even had the chance to breathe. And the smile that appeared on Harry's face was so wide that even a blind man could see it.   
  
  “You shit.” a deep male voice yelled and Harry was at it again, not paying attention to Lou who was slowly creeping out of the room, closing the door smoothly along. A set of arms wound themselves around Harry's body and the hold was so tight and different from Lou's and this time Harry really was choking, but he didn't mention it because he felt like it wasn't the right moment, instead deciding to tightly clutch onto the other man's shirt in desperation, having missed the other man _so_ much. “Lou called me, I seriously thought she was playing some mean prank on me. 'Harry is back'. Yeah, back my ass. I was sure you had gotten lost somewhere on the way, seeing as you don't even know the way around your own house, and  back in my mind I could only think that if you were alive you were without doubt somewhere in the jungle, swinging around with the monkeys and your ankle long hair before losing them too.”  
  
  Harry started laughing, because _Zayn_. He got his friend back, and he had almost forgotten how funny he could be behind the dark aura. He didn't even get too far into it. He just knew what Harry needed and went along with it. And he got it perfectly.  
  
  “Wow.” Zayn breathed when they pulled away, looking up and down and taking in his appearance. “You look so much more mature. When Lou called me I didn't expect _this_. It's even more unbelievable now that you're the youngest.”  
  
  “Is it a bad change?” Harry asked, and the other boy was once again taken aback. Even the voice had aged.  
  
  “No. It's an extremely good thing.” his friend replied before a cheeky smile spread over his face. “I would've liked to get some of that if I wasn't married.”  
  
  “Of course! You're married! I almost forgot. How is Perrie?”  
  
  Zayn looked at his friend in disbelief narrowing his eyes carefully at the other. When he saw that the curly haired _man_ was serious he couldn't help but chuckle in surprise. “I didn't realize. You have no idea, do you?”  
  
  “No idea, what?” Harry asked confused, eyebrows furrowing and a frown taking over his face.  
  
  “Well, lets just say that I've got this thing for pale brown haired people with their locks died blond.” Zayn told him, but the other was nowhere near understanding. “And Perrie isn't the one I chose. We blew off the marriage after you went away because, let's face the truth here, she was doing well but the rest of us were acting shit, and she couldn't be there for me all the time so we came to a mutual decision.”  
  
  Harry stood there and waited, but then realized that his friend wasn't going to continue. “What? You can't just end it there. _Who_ are you married to?”  
  
  A small shy smile spread over the boy's face and a blush tinted his cheeks – that was a reaction Harry had never expected to get out of the older man. He was actually quite surprised. But not as surprised as when the man spoke up and muttered a name Harry knew all too well.  
  
  “What?”  
  
  “Niall.” Zayn repeated, his smile widening as he waited for reaction. And he sure as hell got one. Harry threw himself on top of the other boy, grinning like an absolute idiot, and he felt like crying again. Five years. Five years passed and everything was so changed. Two of his best friends married to each other now, god knows what Liam's up to. And Louis, he wasn't even going to think about that. Except he did, and immediately he regretted it. He thought about how his and Eleanor's relationship was going so far, what they named the child, if Louis still had his fluffy hair that was so cute and well grown the last time Harry saw him, and he wondered if he still wore these punk clothes that made the other one absolutely week in the knees. He wondered for so long, and Zayn immediately realized what was going on. “Louis went through a lot, you know. I said some shit to him that he really didn't deserve, and I do regret saying it, but he did deserve it. He needed that extra kick in the butt to realize what he did. He knows what he did and he's so sorry, you can't even begin to imagine how bad he feels. And if you'd give him a chance he would listen and apologize for everything he's done. Without doubt.”  
  
  Harry immediately shook his head, tears glimmering in his eyes before he stopped them, deciding to act his age. “No, Zayn. Don't. I don't want to. Please don't call him or tell him I'm here.”  
  
  The glint in his friend's eyes was all to obvious after that. There wasn't too much hope left, and Harry knew it. But he couldn't. Not now especially. Maybe when he finally adapted to it all, but not now. And Zayn understood that and nodded his head sincerely.   
  
  “Care for a drink?”  
  
  “It's been too long. God yes.”

 

  
  
    
  A drink turned it to twenty. Or more. They didn't keep count. And before they knew it they were waking up in Zayn's bed, hungover as ever, and feeling over heated in all the clothes that they were wearing beneath the covers. A long roll of laughter had been spared when they realized how stupid they must be when they're drunk, but laughing didn't seem like the right thing to do.  
  
  The hotel manager came and kicked them out, one of the reasons being that Harry had only rented the hotel room for one day, and the other one was that apparently they had caused quite a scandal at the hotel after they came home from the club.  
  
  And that's how they found themselves opening the door to Zayn's _huge_ house, both tired, sick, and yet giggling quietly. That's before Zayn walked into the kitchen. God, if that wasn't the most terrifying thing Harry's ever witnessed.  
  
  “Zayn Javadd Malikk-Horan; why the _fuck_ did you leave a hotel room last night with some _man_ last night? I came home and saw that you had left and you never came back! You know how paranoid I get when people do that! And why were you with the same bloody cunt at a bar....”   
  
  Silence spread through the air suddenly as the small, blond boy looked behind Zayn as he trailed off, staring wide eyed. And Harry would've found this whole situation beyond funny (especially as he looked down at the kitchen table behind Niall, seeing the local news paper which top story was apparently 'Zayn Malik with mystery man' and a couple of pictures from last night) if it wasn't for the look on Niall's face. He looked like he was about to break down crying. He just stared at the curly haired boy with his wide blue eyes and didn't seem to be able to do anything else.  
  
  “Harry?” Niall's small, shaky voice asked after Zayn stepped further aside, letting his husband take a better look at the boy. And there was nothing Harry could do except nod slowly and wait for what was about to come. Niall immediately ran towards the boy, his body feeling so small as it collapsed against Harry's tall frame.  
  
  Zayn used that as his moment to sneak out of the room. He didn't want to be there when the two of them reunited. He could already hear the loud sobs and the fast talking. He didn't want to ruin a moment like that. Once upon a time Harry and Niall had been closer than you'd imagine. Hugging, giggling together, making lame jokes and laughing at them. Zayn felt like nobody should ever invade a moment like that.  
  
  He stood in front of the window, staring out, when a car rolled into his driveway. He couldn't help but let out a slight huff of laughter as he realized that Niall had probably called him that morning in panic, and of course the other man loved Niall (and was kind of scared of him at moments) so he would always bail on his own plans to help the smaller. Because he was _Liam_ for gods sake.  
  
  Zayn ran to the door before the other had a chance to knock and shushed him right before he could step in. Liam was very curious and confused, but he obeyed Zayn and kept quiet as he followed him to the kitchen where the other two were still hugging, still crying, and still exchanging cute and lovely words like the men they were.  
  
  Liam freaked out too. It was hilarious. Very hilarious. So Zayn started laughing. And soon, after staring at Zayn in absolute confusion, they all started laughing along, even as Liam and Harry crashed against each other, faces hiding in each others necks, and hands securely around each others body. It was a moment they'd never forget.

 

 

  
  
  
  Harry had been staying at Zayn and Niall's house for a week. It was kind of hard for him to see the two so in love, when Harry didn't have anyone. He almost forgot what affection was, so when Niall cuddled with him on the couch he had been beyond startled.  
  
  But he could see that something was different; something was happening today. Niall and Zayn were rushing around the house, yelling something about white or black, tie or bow, retro or fancy. He was beyond confused.

  
  “What's going on?” he asked, stopping the two of them in a middle of speed talking, and they for a minute looked at him like his question was not appreciated before they realized that he had _no idea_.  
  
  “Of course!” Zayn exclaimed, Niall slapping himself on the forehead. “You don't know.”  
  
  “Don't know what?”  
  
  “It's been five years since you went away. Five years. In a couple of months it will be One Directions eight birthday. We were going to celebrate it this year after turning down all the social events and ceremonies, and our way of celebrating was going to the Brits. It was supposed to be a surprise to everyone, something nobody would expect. Because we still do owe our fans for everything they did for us. And this is our way of making them happy. To show them that we still do appreciate them.”

  
  Harry nodded as Zayn explained it all, looking down on his feet because he still felt bad. So bad. That he had taken such a toll on them that they couldn't even go to award shows and social events and parties. It was all his fault, and he knew it.  
  
  “You know, you should come too.” Zayn stated casually, looking at Harry like it was no big deal even though it really, _really_ , was. Harry shook his head immediately, looking at the other male as if he was a madman, because there was no chance _in hell_. But Zayn was having none of that. “If it's because of Louis then I completely understand you, but you can't hide forever. Eventually you'll have to go outside, and Louis will seek after you as soon as your picture is in the papers. And besides, do you think he's not going to come to my house and accidentally bump into you? Better to do it with style then act like a sociopath for the rest of your life.”  
  
  Harry knew that Zayn was right. He always was. And besides, there was nothing too horrible going to happen, was there? The worst thing would be seeing Louis and Eleanor together, happy and smiling, but he knew that he'd have to face it eventually. There was only one thing to do; get it over with. So he accepted the offer.  
  


 

  
  
  As soon as they stepped out of the car they realized that maybe that hadn't been the best idea. When people spotted Harry everything seemed to get completely quiet. They just _stared_ and Harry couldn't help but squirm in the suit Zayn had been kind enough to lend him, slightly tugging on the ends of the sleeves. He could almost see the sweat on his forehead running down as if it were the world's biggest marathon. There was so much silence. _So much silence_. They just stood there like players of a football team right before a game, watching with their big predatory eyes, ready to strike.   
  
  Imagine this; a quiet, lonely zebra is walking around the empty grounds of African wilderness. It hears a low sound, but thinks nothing of it. Another sound comes from the other side. The zebra looks up cautiously, knowing that nowhere is safe. But it was too late. It's already trapped. All it took was one moment, one moment and loud animalistic roars are echoing the empty site. Humans are no better. We come from animals, and we are more dangerous than any other species in the world. Especially when it comes to other people.  
  
  Harry was the zebra. He was trapped there. He was already caught and gone. There was no way to escape it now. Especially not when suddenly everyone was talking, cameras pointed straight on him – one of whom was live streaming, probably connected to the news – and complete chaos is the only word to describe what was happening.  
  
  Even the celebrities seemed to drop their smiling and posing, instead bringing a hand up to clutch their own mouths in surprise. Harry Styles from One Direction, supposed to have died five years ago, was standing there with two other members from the band like it was no big deal. Soon a loud, never ending, chorus of girls screaming was heard – probably around the whole city. People even attempted to break through the fences that held them back, and never had any security guard ever witnessed anything like that. And they themselves almost couldn't hold them back, pure shock running through their veins too.  
  
  Harry removed his hands from his sides, instead grabbing Zayn and Niall's ones and holding onto them as if his life depended on it. He'd remember to apologize for that later.  
  
  The trio slowly started sneaking along the carpet, dodging all kinds of microphones or yells of _One Direction_ or _Harry's Alive_. Instead they let themselves be unfazed as they walked on, daring their sight to not get too bad from all the flashing lights, and daring their ears not to fall off from all the screams.  
  
  Somewhere in the middle of all this two body guards were sent to the three men, and they were led inside the tall and beautiful building. They stopped only once on the way, because the three of them thought it was only fair to stop in front of the big poster and let the eager photographers take some proper pictures. If people were going to talk about them, they might as well give them something good to go on.  
  
  Even inside the building things were a mess. Many people whom the boy has seen maybe once or twice through their lives were walking up to them as if they were old friends, just on the edge of sobbing from the sight of Harry. And it was flattering really, but not what Harry wanted at that moment. He just wanted a taste of how it had always been, but that was much more than any of them had ever experienced.  
  
  They were all rushed to their seats where the pair sat, assuring Harry by putting hands on his back, tapping his leg, or nudging his shoulder. Niall and Zayn knew that when everyone was inside someone on stage ought to stop presenting, dancing, singing, only to talk about Harry instead. And that was one of the things he hoped would go well.  
  


 

  
  
  The thing none of them knew was the fact that one of the evening's hosts was none other then Louis Tomlinson. He had been in his dressing room, breathing calmly, when the screams happened. At first he got properly panicked. He was sure someone had died. No joke. He thought something horrible was happening and he felt like crying. It was all too much. He had grown more sensitive with each year that past, and he wasn't sure if he could handle it. But then he could hear the screams turn into cries of joy. People sobbing, yelling, fainting. Everyone was chanting something about Harry and being back. His first instinct was that Harry Potter fans were getting some big treat, that there would be an extra movie or something, but it didn't seem too believable to him.   
  
  Five minutes. That was too short. He was on the verge of tears. How could he go out like this worrying, absolutely mad, mess? He couldn't. There was no way. He looked down on his phone. He ached to pick it up and dial in the familiar number, hear the calming motherly voice stream through the phone. But he couldn't. His family was so excited. They were depending on this. For years upon years they had waited for him to become who he had been before it all. He couldn't give up on that.  
  
  A small knock was on the door, letting him know that it was time, and he took one last deep breath, not paying interest to the unusual atmosphere in the big arena since all he could really think about was himself. It wasn't selfish. The thing was that the last and first time Louis had ever done anything like this was with the boys. Back when they were young and absolutely out of their minds. They tried being their silly selves, but on the inside they had been absolutely petrified. The feeling they felt then was nothing to compare to what Louis was feeling at that moment. He was alone. After all these years of having someone to support you, he was alone for the first time.  
  
  His feet seemed to be determined on getting this done. He has no memory of ever getting up and out of the seat, definitely not getting on stage either. But it wasn't what he had expected. Something was different. When he stepped out everyone was already in hysteria. Did Kevin Hart say some shockingly inappropriate joke once again? One that Louis could get home and laugh at for a whole week? Did Miley Cyrus whip out her boobs screaming YOLO? Did Justin Bieber start talking shit in front of the whole population of people – also one of Louis favorite things.  
  
  Unfortunately it was none of those things. It was bigger. Much bigger then that. So big that Louis could've never in his years of living prepared himself for.  
  
  He was standing in front of the lectern, jeans feeling much tighter and thicker then they previously had while his shirt clung so hard to his body that he felt like he was going to lose his breath. A smile couldn't even make it's way to his face. Everyone was looking somewhere else. Everyone was so out of it. Every girl in the stadium was in tears while others were in utter shock. Something was not right.  
  
  Louis knew he was going to cry. He just knew it. People weren't even paying attention. They didn't care about some ex-boyband member that now only lives on the money he got in his previous career. Of course they didn't care.  
  
  He let his eyes wander, maybe there was _someone_ paying attention. Grey eyes ran across every single table, every seat, and in vain he spotted the only ones who were paying attention. He wanted to smile. He wanted to let out a cry of joy and smile. The boys were there. They were supporting him. Zayn, Niall, Liam. And Harry.   
  
  Louis didn't even feel the cards smoothly slip out of his hands. _Harry_. He rubbed his eyes tightly, slapping himself lightly on the cheek. He couldn't be _that_ desperate. He looked up again. That's when he realized that he wasn't hallucinating. And he couldn't do anything. He stood there, face completely drained of all colour, legs feeling wobbly and weak. _Harry_. He was staring right back at him from the distance, his matured face and grown fashion. His curly hair that seemed indescribably alike the last time he saw it. And it just couldn't be. He knew it, the boys knew it, _everyone_ knew it. No matter how much they tried to deny it, Harry is _dead_. Dead people don't come alive and show up at music awards. They just don't.  
  
  A choked sound seemed to leave his mouth in that swift second. It was enough to gain the attention of the people in the room. Not that he cared.   
  
  And he really didn't want to stare. But it felt as if somebody had glued his eyeballs to his eyelids, forcing him to look at only that one boy. Although I suppose he's a man now. A man with long curly hair and a hard face. It's not good.  
  
  Someone cleared their throat beside him. He couldn't even look over as he knew that it was his co-announcer, some young singer that had the talent of a megastar, the mind of a young determined mother and the maturity of an old man. But he _didn't care_.  
  
  “Louis.” she said, smiling at the camera the best way she could without letting her pain and complete annoyance come to light.  
  
  “Just t-take my cards or something. S-shit, I don't care, just get it over with.” was the only thing he could manage.  
  
  He didn't think. He just ran. Ran away from the stage, ran away from that polite but inhumanly annoying kid, ran away from every people in the building. He ran away from _him_. And Louis had no idea how long he'd been going at it, he just knew that he couldn't stop until his last breath went. He managed to barely get out of the big house and into that dark valley right beside, but that was when his breath fell. He couldn't do it. He couldn't tun anymore. Because he must be hallucinating. Harry's not coming back, and he knows it. Every inch of his body was telling him to stop it. These things and his imagination had been running wild for way too long. He couldn't keep doing it. He had to let it go. Let Harry go. Because five years. Five years had passed and Louis still coulnd't manage to lose hope. He wished Harry would come. And in a way he did. Louis saw him all the time across the street or in shops. But that wasn't Harry. Harry was dead. And that's a fact.  
  
  It was the worst thing a person could do to Louis at the moment. He didn't hear anything. He was too caught up in his own thoughts, not paying attention to the tears that still didn't seem to be able run down his face like they would do if it were any other person. The man was just too distracted. So when a hand was cupping his shoulder he couldn't help but panic, turning around faster than anyone would've ever managed, ready to get himself fall into the person's arms whether it was a burglar, a murderer, a rapist, _someone_. He just didn't care.  
  
  “Louis?” a quiet voice asked, as if the other person wasn't sure. The tone seemed so hesitant and small, enough to make Louis open his eyes in desperation. But he regretted it. Because as soon as his eyes were open there was nothing he could do but stare. He stared at the lips. The ones he remembered so well, _too_ well. Pink and capped and perfect in every way. And the nose. The perfect nose for Eskimo kisses and a good target to poke. But then there were these _eyes_. So green that Louis was surprised he didn't get blinded. That green shade made him question it all. Because it hadn't changed at all. And only Louis' memory could recreate something as perfect as that. But those eyes, they were even more beautiful that he remembered. Everything was more beautiful than he remembered. He just knew that not even his own imagination could run that far.  
  
  “Harry?” the older male shot back, hands unconsciously clutching the pockets of his jeans tight enough to rip any material if he moved in a swift enough motion. He got no answer to his question though, instead a pair of emerald eyes kept staring straight into his own. And he didn't need the answer. “Fuck.”  
  
  Louis didn't think – at a moment like that there was nothing to think about. His arms were unplugging themselves from his pockets and before the pair knew it Louis was holding the younger in such a tight embrace that it shocked them both. It showed them everything they'd missed. There was so much emotion, so much love on his behalf, that Louis finally broke down. His loud sobs were the next thing you could hear around the empty alley. The smell of Harry, his hair tickling his cheek, his big lean body towering over his even though he was so innocent and small on the inside. Nothing could've prepared Louis for that.  
  
  “I can't believe it's you.” Louis cried loudly, voice breaking in mid sentence and he couldn't even speak anymore through the sobs. It wasn't a cute silent girl crying. It was real crying. It was pure pain to hear, absolutely heartbreaking, and it caused Louis to have a hard time breathing, loudly inhaling shakily in between the loud sounds, and Harry couldn't help it. He wrapped his arms around the older boy in such desperation that it took them both a moment to catch back their breaths.  
  
  “It's okay, it's okay, don't worry.” Harry whispered as he calmly shushed the younger boy. He knew he was being stupid. He couldn't just drop for Louis like a puppy. But he couldn't help himself. Five years. That's a long time.  
  
  “Don't worry?” the older cried out, pushing his face hard into the other's neck because he just had to feel that he was real, to know that this was not just a dream. “I thought you were dead. We all did. We thought something horrible had happened because you practically just disappeared from the face of earth. So you can't tell me to not worry, because I really fucking missed you.”  
  
  Harry bit his lip in hopes that he'd toughen up. The reason he came back wasn't to be smothered by Louis. The man who broke his heart years ago. If he did that he is weak. And he was tired of being called weak. All those years ago he had gotten more than a small dose of accusation for being that. Both from the media and the fans. Of course there were these very grumpy haters there too, but they were better than the other two. They called him weak for crying. But he knew that he wasn't being weak, he was being big hearted. But when his own fans had called him weak, weak for staying alone for so long, weak for keeping his secret to himself, weak for not taking advantage of the power he had. And Harry was just so fucking tired of it.  
  
  “Look, Louis, can we do this some other time?” he asked, finally pulling away for the quizzical man, running a big hand down his face in frustration.  
  
  “What? Why?” Louis demanded, looking him dead in the eye.  
  
  “Because I'm not ready. I just came back and I still have to get used to things. Plus, everything around me is going to be a disaster. All the papers will have pictures of me, magazines even more, Zayn commented that I'd probably be on the news at one point, every website ever is going to be shitting gossip all around. And I just can't have this to stock on top of it. You and I both know why.”  was the answer he gave the other male, doing his best at holding a straight face which was one of the things he had mastered over the years. “You should go back inside, just like I'm about to do. Apologize to the audience and meet up with the boys. Or you could go home to Eleanor and your child.” those words. They were like daggers running down his throat. Like razor blades cutting down his spleen. Eleanor and Louis' _child_. That was one of the few things Harry still hadn't gotten over these five years.  
  
  And that's why it took him by surprise when a surprised and absolutely humorless laughter left the man standing in front of him. He looked up, straight into Louis' eyes with curiosity, not sure why that would be funny _at all_.   
  
  “Run home to Eleanor?” he asked, eyes still holding that disbelieving effect. “You really don't know much about the past five years, do you?” Harry shook his head, because no, he had been on sea for all that time and he didn't see a reason for why he would be tempted to buy one of those girly magazines who they always sold at stores which were filled with gossip, because Harry had a lot more on his hands than that. “Well. I have a lot to fill you up on. For an example, did you know that the Jonas Brother's broke up? Demi Lovato is engaged. Little Mix are releasing their god knows number what single, and it's at the top of the charts. Ed Sheeran is bigger than ever, taking over the whole world. Oh, and Eleanor and I broke up five years ago.”  
  
  Harry couldn't stop himself from letting out a small sound of surprise, knowing Louis caught it and knowing that he might be rude but he couldn't find it in himself to care.  
  
  “You going to ask why?” Louis questioned, raising an eyebrow before he looked at the ground, kicking a small stone with his fancy, shining, dress shoes. Harry nodded and confidently asked him exactly what they had both been expecting him to say. “Well, after our small meet up things just went downhill. When I say that meet up I mean the moment I told you what was going to happen. It wasn't until when you were gone. I remember that we agreed to meet up the next day to talk more about it, but you never showed up again. Not for five years.” Louis took a deep breath, helplessly leaning against the wall. “I was going to tell you how much I love you. I wanted to tell you that we'd find a solution, and that no matter what we'd be together. But I never saw you.  
  
  “When I realized that you were gone I went into such a shock. I'm genuinely surprised that they didn't keep me in a metal institution for at least a couple of days. I didn't to anything but panic. And I remember it so well. The whole progress of it. Liam was pacing around all the time, and it was as if his hand was stuck in his hair because for some reason he was always running it through the brown locks. Niall on the other hand was a mess. He was so upset, thinking it was all his fault because he didn't pay attention to your real feelings. It was heartbreaking. Then there was Zayn. At first he staid calm through it, helping Niall keep his emotions in line, but it was only a matter of time before he exploded. And the thing is, he really liked to remind me that it was my fault that you were gone. He was yelling at me all the time because of it. And I couldn't do anything about it because I knew he was right.  
  
  “It wasn't until a month later that I finally called quits with Eleanor. I had been too scared and too paranoid to do it before. I kept thinking that I couldn't lose someone else I care about. Because yes, _of course_ I cared about her, but _I loved_ you. That's the difference. And I realized that too late. So when I told her that I was in love with you – at the time it was kind of pitiful because we all thought I was admitting that I was in love with _a dead man_ – and as expected she ran away after that. She couldn't handle it anymore. She couldn't handle _me_ anymore. Instead she ran away with some other man. I never caught his name. Not that I care, either ways. Just as long as they're happy.”  
  
  Harry had been waiting for the boy to continue. He completely ignored the was his stomach was turning in happiness and focused on the matter of importance.  
  
  “Wait a minute.” Harry said when he finally realized that Louis was done with his speech, helplessly staring at the taller one with big gray eyes. “Maybe I missed a part, but I don't recall you telling me anything about your child. What the hell happened with that?”  
  
  Louis sighed and at that moment it was obvious to Harry that Louis had purposely left that part out in hopes that he wouldn't notice. “Yes, I might have left that part out. The one where Eleanor comes back. There's suddenly just a knock on the door and she appears there, holding a one month old baby, looking me in the eyes sadly and telling me that she can't do it, and the next thing I know is that she's gone and I'm alone with a small boy that I've never seen before but know is mine.” he paused for a moment. “It was hard at first. I had no idea what to do. Sure, when I was younger I used to help with my sisters, but at that time I was young myself and never knew what I was doing. And the thing is that when you're a single father you _have_ to know what you're doing. Otherwise you're screwed for life. Which I thought I was. But with the help of the boys I've managed to do my best, and I think he's happy. No, scratch that, I know he is.”  
  
  “Where is he now?” Harry asked calmly.  
  
  “He's over at a friends house for the night. A lovely woman who is the mother of one of his best friend's offered to babysit him while I'm here. I would've asked the boys, but I knew that they were coming too.”  
  
  “So the boys get along with him well?” Harry questioned further, being curious about this all, and choosing to ignore the way Louis was looking impatient and somewhat twitchy.  
  
  “They love him and he absolutely adores them.” Louis told him, expression warming up for the moment. “He and Zayn have gotten on very well, especially. After those couple of weeks where he basically hated me we came even closer than before. He was with me at all times, even though he was busy making a certain blond boy happy. So when Toby was born Zayn was there to help. Liam does too, but he can be a bit clumsy and never really trusted himself around children. Neither did I. He and Niall were a no-no. Niall can't even properly hold a baby. So Zayn was the only one I trusted with him. He takes care of him most of the times when I'm busy, and I'm thankful because they're all still supportive and still haven't given up on me after five years of heartbreak.”  
  
  The silence was overwhelming. Weird how that building filled with thousands of people was standing right beside them, and yet everything was completely quiet, thanks to these thick walls.  
  
  “He'd love you, you know.” Louis added after a minute, voice quiet and solemn. “That's one of the things he got from me. He finds curls and dimples fascinating, and his favorite thing to do is lie with me and listen to indie songs with deep raspy voices and a nice meaning, even though he doesn't get it yet.”  
  
  Harry was quiet, but he smiled. He genuinely smiled. He knew that what Louis said was big. And he knew that it was something Louis had been wanting to say for a while.   
  
  “Thank you, Louis. For being honest.” he spoke after a moment, catching the attention of the shorter boy who's eyes immediately snapped to his own.  
  
  “You deserved to know this. You deserve to know how much I missed you. How much you mean to me.” hesitation was evident in his voice. “You deserve to know just how much I love you, and just how sorry I am for letting you know when it's too late.”  
  
  It took a lot of strength. But he could see it in Louis' face. It was so sweet and sincere. There was no way the boy wasn't telling the honest truth. And Harry knew he couldn't lie to himself. Five years and was still in love with the same idiot of a boy, no matter how much he tried to deny it, it's just one of those things you can't change. So he said it. “Louis, I've been on sea for the past five years. I've been reading, I've been writing, and I've been thinking. And in that time I have learned a lot of things. And one of those is that it's _never_ too late.”  
  
  He could see it in Louis face now. The older one knew what he meant. Even though he hadn't said those three small words, they both knew what he meant.   
  
  It all happened in a flash. One moment they were standing there and the next Louis was back in Harry's arms, but differently this time. Now he had his mouth crushed against the others, breathing in big bits of air with each moment that passed because this _couldn't be happening_. He just didn't believe it. He didn't believe that Harry's silky soft lips were pressed against his own, showing just as much desperation as his own. And that was a lot of desperation.   
  
  Harry could almost feel it happening. He could feel himself and Louis forget all about what had happened previously. He could feel them forgiving each other, Harry forgiving Louis for being a dick and breaking his heart, and Louis forgiving Harry for leaving him and breaking his heart. They forgave each other it all, with only one thing in mind: they were there now, in each others arms, and they were finally _happy_. That was something they intended on doing for as long as they lived.  
  
  Louis could feel the blood running from his knuckles from the tight hold he had on Harry's suit jacket, and instead let his hands relax, bringing them up to Harry's neck for a change. And it was all so perfect because he had to tiptoe to be able to show Harry his love as he desperately slid his tongue into the others mouth. Harry's hands were more delicate, one holding his waist softly and the other on his neck. The moment was perfect. _Perfect_.  
  
  It was so perfect that the three smiling boys standing in the exit of the valley all brought up their phones or cameras, snapping a picture of the moment. And when I say the moment I mean _the_ moment. One that would be made to a story.  A story that they would tell their children one day. Then they would point at this picture, the perfect picture for the perfect ending.


End file.
